


Untitled Quack Fic II: The Quackel

by SandwichBandit



Series: Ducks [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack Fic, Discord: Bellamione Coven, Ducks, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandwichBandit/pseuds/SandwichBandit
Summary: (Ah yes the glorious sequel to the duck crack fic because multiple people asked me for it. IDK why but here it is!)Professor Hermione Granger struggles to get her wand back from her new nemesis, General Quackula. Magical Britain falls to an army of ducks. Professor Black has to teach a special edition of DADA, The Defense Against Duck Attacks.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: Ducks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840078
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Untitled Quack Fic II: The Quackel

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote the first one, I had no idea some people would actually like it. Let alone ask me for another.

“Granger, I introduce you to my DA.” 

She burst out laughing from the sheer absurdity, a duck army, really?! 

“You laugh now, but soon this world will be plunged into complete and utter chaos.” 

And true to Bellatrix’s words, the wizarding world was plunged into absolute madness. And Hermione was caught up in it once more. 

Hermione thought getting her wand back wouldn’t be _too_ hard. They were ducks afterall. However, once Bellatrix dispersed her DA, Hermione lost track of General Quackula in the chaos. The duck with her wand escaped, and she needed it back before class started the next day. 

Surely it couldn’t be that hard to find a duck carrying a 10 ¾ inch wand with its bill. She thought it would only take about 10 minutes, 15 minutes tops. How far could a duck go? Not too far, right? Wrong! 

When they scattered, they _really_ scattered. With the light fading, Hermione’s task—finding one duck out of hundreds, with the only defining feature being that said creature carried a wand—got even harder. She decided that perhaps Quackula got his name from quacking a lot. It wasn't her greatest idea, but it was _an_ idea. 

An idea that led her to many ducks, but none of them were Quackula or maybe it was Quackula but he dropped the wand somewhere. She was hoping that it was the former rather than the latter. 

After an unsuccessful search, Hermione returned to her chambers, deciding that she would strangle Bellatrix later. She entered her room grumbling to herself, completely unaware of the other occupant in the shadows, until she had the daylights scared out of her. 

“Are you serious!?” She shouted, not caring about possibly waking up the others. 

“Sirius was my cousin’s name.” Bella responded, completely unfazed. She sat in a chair like a queen on a throne and on her lap was a duck. The duck. _Quackula_ , the wand snatcher. 

“The lake stunt!” 

“Oh,” she said, in between stroking and praising Hermione’s new nemesis. Quackula was loving it. “I’m sure one hundred ducks will be the least of Hogwarts’ problems.” 

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, tonight was going to be a long night. But at least she knew where her wand was. “Bellatrix, give me back my wand.” 

“I’d love to, dear, but it's not up to me.” Hermione knew what she meant. _Ask the duck._

Grabbing the wand in the duck’s bill, Hermione asked, “Quackula, please return my wand.” Hermione gave a solid tug, but Quackula apparently had an iron grip. She hardly budged it from his mouth. 

“That's not his name,” Bellatrix responded, obviously amused by the interaction. 

Hermione started with a sigh, “ _General_ Quackula.” This was getting ridiculous. “My wand.” This time she had both of her hands on either side of the wand. With a strong tug she pulled back her wand, but she also took a flapping and very disgruntled General Quackula with her. She gave the wand a good shake, starting to wonder if she could get him off without snapping it. Perhaps she could grab him by the bill and force his mouth open? 

“Haven't you forgotten your manners?” 

“Please.” And with that General Quackula let go, dropping down to the floor with a grunting squak. She was starting to despise that duck and his master. 

“Bella, what are you doing?” Hermione exclaimed, once she turned around and spotted Bellatrix lounging in her bed. Apparently, she managed to swap her clothes for a nightgown and decided to make herself at home for tonight. 

“Sleeping and you should too, you look exhausted.” 

_Fine._ Hermione thought, _This is fine. I don’t care. I’m beyond caring. Just go to bed and deal with it later._ As she walked over to the bathroom, she noticed that Bella left out night clothes for her. _Aww that’s nice of her. But we aren’t cuddling tonight._ She resolved, as she started brushing her teeth. 

As Hermione’s head hit her pillow, she realized she was in between the states of pure exhaustion and wide awake. Bellatrix was out of it, sleeping peacefully like she didn’t unleash mayhem on the world. Hermione on the other hand, stared at the ceiling wondering what god she pissed off in a past life because none of this seemed remotely fair. 

Just as she started to drift off to sleep, she heard a rustling of feathers and immediately tensed up and flinched, expecting Quackula to attack her in the darkness. The weight in the bed shifted as something else joined them. 

Glancing over, Hermione saw Bellatrix still sleeping, but this time she was hugging General Quackula who was snuggling into her chest. 

As Hermione rolled on her back, unfocused, bloodshot eyes gazed at the ceiling. 

_Ah yes. Me. My Girlfriend(?)/Asshole Co-worker. And her Demonic Duck._

* * *

Sunlight pierced through the window, awaking Hermione to the dawn of a new school day. The spot next to her was empty and she didn’t sense Bellatrix’s magical presence in the room or the bathroom. She must have left and started without her. _Hopefully she took Quackula with her._ Hermione prayed, she didn’t want to remotely deal with her feathered foe before 11 AM. 

The Wizarding world was plunged into chaos in a day. 10 hours to be correct. As Hermione walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, she heard rumours of duck attacks on the grounds. 

She glanced at a copy of The Wizarding World News’ headline: 

**DUCKS! BY MERLIN’S BEARD THEY ARE EVERYWHERE!**

_Starting at the quack of dawn, citizens reported a loss of sleep due to a duck disturbance._

The Daily Prophet’s headline was: 

**DUCK DOOM! DEVIOUS DUCKS DEVOUR HOGWARTS!**

_Students claim droves of ducks descended on them, departing them from their wands._

“Reporters sure are fast aren’t they, Granger?” remarked a masculine voice from beside her. 

“Sure are,” Hermione replied disinterestedly, she was glaring at a certain Professor clad in nothing but the color black sitting across a bit further down the long table. 

“Indeed,” chimed in a new voice, the DADA Professor, “with all this duck ruckus I had to change my lesson plans for today.” 

_This is your fault._ Hermione wanted to exclaim. She only reframed from telling because she knew that Bellatrix needed excitement and there was only so much excitement to be found at Hogwarts years after the war. Plus she knew that Bella wouldn’t allow the ducks to go too far. Probably. At the very least, no one would die. 

“Today was the Boggart lesson,” Professor Black lamented, the Boggart lesson was one of her favorites to teach. She lived for the thrill and the only thing that happened nowadays was teaching scared little children. 

“Don’t worry too much, Bellatrix,” he comforted, “I’m sure that this will die down soon. At the very least, this will be a year to remember.” 

Hermione wasn’t too fond of the tone she heard from Professor Black’s mouth. “That it will be,” she replied, with a slight grin. 

It was ominous, but Hermione didn’t have time to ask her about what she meant, as both of them need to head off to teach their classes. 

* * *

Bellatrix leaned back in her chair tapping her nails against the wooden desk waiting for her 3rd year students to arrive. 

Today would be a special once in a lifetime DADA teaching. 

The first and only **‘Defense Against Duck Attacks’** lesson in the entire history of Hogwarts. 

“Good morning,” Professor Black greeted dryly. Without waiting for her students to respond, she continued, “I'm sure you are all aware of the situation outside with all the screaming children, crying, feathers, and quacking. Today’s lesson will be a special one. Normally, I’d be teaching you about Boggarts. However, Headmaster McGonagall decided that this lesson was _far_ more important given the world we live in. Welcome to the first and only _Defense Against Duck Attacks_ class.” 

Bellatrix finally glanced around the room. Some of her students were missing. _Perhaps the ducks got them._ She mused. Others looked a bit winded like they ran from something. 

“The best defense is a…? ” she trailed off, deciding to start them off with something easy. 

A student raised his hand and she called on him. He hesitated unsure if she wanted the muggle answer to the well known phrase. They weren’t blind to her past as the war was still a recent wound to many despite 5 years passing. “Uh, a good offense?” 

“No!” Bellatrix exclaimed, like he was a complete fool. 

Despite how much Bellatrix might have agreed on preemptive attacks in the past, history only proved that attempting to subvert destiny ended poorly. Her old master Voldemort would have agreed if he was still around, however, it was his own doing that sealed his fate. Besides this class wasn’t called ‘Offense with the Dark Arts’ or in this case ‘Offense with Duck Attacks’. 

“It's a meticulously planned defense by exploiting your enemy’s weaknesses.” She paused for dramatic effect, before deadpanly stating, “Unfortunately, these ducks have no known weaknesses.” 

A loud ear-splitting scream came from outside in the courtyard. The students immediately glanced at the windows, trying to figure out what was going on. 

Professor Black flicked her wand in the direction of the windows, drawing curtains over them and muttered a silencing spell. Whatever mess was going outside, she didn’t care about and she didn’t need her students being distracted by random screaming and duck quacking. 

“So when dealing with a duck,” she continued with a raised voice, regaining their attention. “The best way to handle it is to simply keep away from it like it has a very contagious case of Dragon Pox. Stand at least 10 feet back. If you are within 6 feet, you are _definitely_ in the heart of the danger zone. And there might not even be a _body_ to return to your grieving families.” 

Some of the more sensitive students gulped. 

“Don’t worry,” Bellatrix reassured them, “As long as you follow my lesson, _MOST_ of you will make it to adulthood.” 

Bellatrix sweeped her legs off the desk and stood up, moving to the blackboard to jot down the important notes. “Whatever you do, do not, and I repeat, do not make eye contact. They will see it as a challenge and they will attack.” 

Professor Black went over the most important points: 

  * Ducks smell weakness and feast on fear. 
  * Never lose sight of the enemy. 
  * Never turn your back to the enemy. 
  * Get 35 feet between you and the duck and run like fuck! 



Yes, somehow the students must keep track of the duck, not look it in the eyes, slowly step back until they develop a nice and healthy 35 feet between them and their feathered foe, and run (backwards, mind you) until they find safety in a building with a lockable or a pull to open door. Push doors wouldn’t save them. 

“And whatever you do, do not die,” She ended her lesson with. To an outsider, it might have seemed like Professor Black actually cared about her students. Perhaps the professor did care about them but not as much as her honour. “If you do, you are no student of mine. I will not go down in _Hogwarts: A History_ as the professor who couldn’t teach her students how to be safe from a dangerous and blood thirsty duck horde.” 

* * *

“Are you seriously going to let the mallards murder students?” Hermione asked, Bellatrix was once again in her room at night. She sat in one of the room’s two armchairs reading a random book she pulled from the Restricted Section. 

“What! Of course not,” Bellatrix assured. “But in true Hogwarts fashion, a maiming is permissible.” 

Hermione frowned, Bella’s response was anything but assuring to her. 

“Don’t make that face. They wont hurt them _too_ bad,” she admitted. Yes, some children were in the medical ward after getting attacked by the ducks. That would teach them not to skip out on her DADA classes. Besides, no one died, _yet_ , or to her knowledge. In Bellatrix’s mind, she was doing _some_ good. Entertaining herself and making Hogwarts get their money’s worth out of Madam Pomfrey (as well as keeping Pomfrey from getting bored without someone to heal) and the medical ward. “Things nowadays are relatively harmless. Unlike muggle hunting basilisks, ground patrolling dementors, and whatever else that lurked within the darkest parts of the Forbidden Forest. Hell, Dumbledore allowed the Triwizard Tournament to happen and kids died in that.” Bellatrix paused thinking back to her childhood. “More than once,” she added, thinking back to the attempted revival in her year. It ended after a 5th year Gryffindor got murdered by one of the escaped creatures involved in one of the tasks before the tournament could even begin. The school quietly canceled it and moved on like normal. Bellatrix was bummed out because she planned on entering and winning. “And they still allowed it. They bought it back for your year.” 

Bellatrix slammed the old tome close, making Hermione wince as that book was probably a super rare one and in general she hated when people were rough with books. 

Bella exclaimed, “Ah, I love this place!” her mind reliving her time as a student. 

* * *

A week had passed and the problem didn’t improve. Ducks ran rampt all over the wizarding world. Nothing like this had happened before. Haughty wizards and witches thought ‘It’s just a few ducks, how terrible could it be?’ only to find out it was worse. A lot worse. Wands were stolen at an insane rate where there was a shortage of them causing the price of them to skyrocket. Even used and abused hand me down wands sold for 500% more than their actual worth. 

The Ministry struggled to quell the quacking harbingers of doom. So many ducks, so few Aurors. 

**MALLARD MURDER: HAS THE MINISTRY GONE TOO FAR?**

Included under the headline was a picture of an unknown Auror casting Bombarda on a bunch of ducks and quotes from various citizens in support of the Ministry’s extreme actions or condemning them for animal abuse. 

In general, the public wasn’t thrilled with the gory murder of birds. In fact, the Bird Bombarda was a PR nightmare. 

‘Why fight nature with firepower,’ was a thought that ran through someone’s head, ‘when you could let nature fight nature?’ 

It was by this unchecked thought process that resulted in the Ministry unleashing cats. Cats kill birds. Ducks are birds. We want the duck problem gone, so this should work out… 

* * *

**CATASTROPHE: MINISTRY MOUSERS MURDER THE ENVIRONMENT ALONG WITH THE MALLARDS!**

Hermione held up the latest edition of the Daily Prophet in front of Harry Potter’s face. As much as Hermione loved cats, she didn’t entirely approve of them running wild. Without a natural predator, their population would be left unchecked and they would manage to upset the ecosystem. Who knows how bad they have already wrecked it? 

“Did you even spay/neuter them?” 

Harry’s eyes had a deer in the lights look about them that answered her question. Today was a horrible day to be an Auror. It was even worse to be the Head Auror. 

Before Hermione could start in on another lecture about endangered magical species being preyed upon by the cats, a male Auror busted into Harry’s office and exclaimed, “We got him, sir.” 

In the man’s arms was a duck with a silver shackle locked around its neck. Said duck, made disgruntled quacking sounds, unhappy with how the Auror was manhandling it. 

“It's just a regular duck,” Harry said, shaking his head. What did he do to deserve any of this? Defy the odds and live? 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, she could recognize that quacking from anywhere. _General Quackula!_ In the flesh—feathers. 

* * *

He knew that life after the Second Wizarding War would be different, but never in Kingsley Shacklebolt’s life did he ever think he’d be residing over a duck trial. 

The first case in all of wizarding history. 

General Quackula, a duck, charged of terrorism, improper application of magic, and a host of other charges. 

Bellatrix Black stood in the room, not as a culprit, but as the animal-to-human interpreter. Their usual animal-to-human interpreter, someone the department completely forgot they had, was conveniently on vacation. The Ministry bled money like crazy. How often did they need an animal-to-human interpreter? Not often enough to even recall _who_ they stuck in the 3 by 3 broom closet on the 5th floor. Yet, they got paid nonetheless. 

Through Bellatrix, General Quackula made various points defending himself: 

  * He was not a general at all. His rank isn’t real and isn’t recognized by any nation or army. 
  * There was no solid proof—video, photograph, or live witness—that he was responsible for any of the so called attacks. He was at the wrong place, wrong time. A case of creature discrimination. 
  * There are no rules for non-magical creatures which he, an _ordinary_ and innocent duck, was. The British Ministry of Magic shouldn’t even be allowed to try him. 



In the end, General(?) Quackula avoided Azkaban. The Ministry of Magic had to let him go. 

* * *

After the trial, Hermione thought her life would go back to relative normal. However, Bellatrix brought that blasted duck everywhere: breakfast, lunch, dinner, the classroom, and even to bed. Her bed. Enough was enough, she was done playing second fiddle to a duck. 

“It’s either the duck or me!” 

“Are you serious!?” Bellatrix exclaimed. She had to be joking, jealous of a duck. Of General Quackula. An animal. 

“Sirius was your cousin’s name.” 

Bellatrix blinked, it might have been weeks or perhaps a month later, but she easily recognized her own terrible joke thrown back at her. All of this was going on for far too long. She sighed and said to General Quackula, “Well, you heard the missus,” as she set him down on the ground. 

The aforementioned duck made sad quacking sounds. 

“You did well,” Bellatrix said, bending down and petting his head. “All of wizarding Britain feared you.” 

She paused again listening for his response. 

“Not well enough for a raise, I’m afraid.” 

Que the disgruntled quacking. 

“No!” She stopped petting him and rose to her feet, towering over him as she yelled, “Failures get nothing! I said, ‘World Domination!’” 

Hermione stood there silently watching their interaction and stifling a laugh. It was one thing to know your girlfriend spoke duck (and maybe other bird languages) but it was something else to see her actively argue with one. 

The quacking got louder until Bellatrix cut him off. 

“I mean it!” She growled. 

General Quackula quacked back. 

Hermione could only assume he said something insulting to her by the way Bellatrix’s mood soured. 

Belltrix scowled, “I _saved_ you from Azkaban!” 

She seemed to have enough and turned her back on him, starting to walk away only for General Quackula to ask one last thing. 

“Yes, we’re still on for tea this Saturday. But there will be no sweets for you.” 

Hermione sighed in relief. Her nightmare was over. For a while, she was concerned the duck was a packaged deal with Bellatrix. She could handle many things, but she drew the line at sharing her girlfriend’s attention and affection with a duck. And a duck in the bed was a step too far. Whatever Bellatrix wanted to do on a Saturday for a few hours hardly concerned her as long as it wasn’t destructive or dealing with plans of world domination. She was pretty sure after the trial Bella wouldn’t pull the same trick again. It wouldn’t be original nor creative enough for her. 

But just to be safe, Hermione wanted to cover all the bases. “Bella, I need you to promise me something.” 

“I promise on my honour. I’ll never use ducks for world domination again.” 

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, “Only ducks?” 

“I will refrain from using living animals in my schemes and quest for world domination.” 


End file.
